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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802978">Black Coffee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumassen/pseuds/lumassen'>lumassen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:01:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumassen/pseuds/lumassen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble that I ended up liking from an anon prompt on Tumblr where Nor and Fin both order a black coffee and Nor ends up taking Fin's without realising that he was there first. </p><p>Just fluff, but I might continue it if y'all like it idk</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Finland/Norway (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Black Coffee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The usual morning rush of people spilled out of the underground carriage as the train came to a halt and the doors opened. It was 7am. Way too early for Lukas, especially when he had to try and navigate the subway with a heavy cello strapped to his back. He stiffled a yawn as he fished around in his trouser pocket for his oyster card then swiped it over the reader on the gates. Slowly sidling through sideways to avoid causing any damage to his cello as the automatic gates swung closed too quickly behind him, he heard other Londoners sighing and grumbling behind him, as impatient and self absorbed as ever. </p><p>As he jogged up the steps and out of Ealing Broadway tube station onto the street his breath began to  form around him in the crisp January air. The sun was vacant from the sky and would be for another hour or so, and the artificial light from the street lamps cast yellow glow across the hustle and bustle of the the beginning of the London morning rush. No matter what day it was weekend or weekday, this part of London was always busy, and Lukas picked his way through the onward march of people until his favourite coffee shop came into view at the other end of the street. Dodging around a man dragging a newspaper cart along the pavement Lukas swung the door open and ducked inside, the earthy aroma already stimulating his senses as soon as he took in a breath while the door closed behind him. He rubbed his cold hands together as he joined the line at the counter then loosened his scarf a little. His pulsing headache seemed to dull with every passing minute that he stood in the line, knowing that with every customer served in front of him he was getting closer to a cup of what he, a norwegian man and coffee snob, considered to be the best coffee in London curled around his fingers. </p><p>After a few more minutes he was at the counter, and the barista didn't even have to ask what he was having as he pulled his loyalty card out of his wallet and paid for his black coffee. Then he stepped to the side to wait by the serving hatch, muttering an apology to a suited man who passed behind him, even though he was at no fault and the man was simply too impatient to say 'excuse me' and instead just barged past Lukas's back and knocked the cello. </p><p>"Large black coffee to go!" the barista called, and Lukas stepped forward to the hatch and took the coffee from the counter, anticipating the first sip, when suddenly a hand reached in and tried to pry it out of his grasp.</p><p>"Hey, you're not the only one in the world who drinks black coffee, I was here first. Wait your turn." </p><p>Lukas turned to look into the face of the person beside him who currently had a rather firm yet delicate grip on his hand and felt his face heat a little, he'd recognise that face anywhere. It was Tino, the student union rep and modern piano student. </p><p>The usually bubbly Finn that he would see walking the corridors as he chatted to other students or speaking cheerfully in the library during rep meetings was currently dormant as Tino stood before him, small dark circles under his eyes, clearly only becoming that version of himself after a black coffee or two.</p><p>It was at this moment when Lukas wished the independent coffee shops would start catching on to the trend to take the names of customers to call as they served the drinks, a fad he had thought to be stupid and unnecessary until now. </p><p>He glanced down at his hand as it clutched the coffee cup and now that he'd been brought out of his pre-caffiene slump he noticed that it wasn't the usual disposable cup served to him every morning, and instead it was a reusable one with the unmistakable whimsical art of the moomins printed all over it. Tino's nimble pianist fingers were still firmly curled around it, and Lukas stammered an apology as cooly as he could.</p><p>"Sorry. Didn't realise." was all Lukas could manage as Tino took the cup and his face relaxed.</p><p>Tino sighed in content and a small smile sprang to his lips. </p><p>"No problem, these things happen." he said, suddenly the chirpy person that Lukas recognised almost as soon as he had full possession over his coffee. He took a sip yet still didn't take his eyes off Lukas, his gaze still connected even over the rim of the coffee cup.</p><p>"I'll see you 'round, Lukas!" Tino then said as he turned and headed for the door, leaving Lukas stood with his legs feeling like they were rooted to the spot as he watched him leave. He'd always admired Tino, for he was just as beautiful as the music he played when his hands ran across the ivories of the grand piano in the concert hall, and didn't think that Tino even knew who he was let alone knew his name. </p><p>His heart thumped involuntary in his chest, and he only came back into the room as the door slammed closed behind Tino and the barista called out for another large black coffee, his cold hands now warmed as Tino's touch lingered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know if you want to see this made into a chaptered fic, cause I kinda like it and wouldn't mind writing more!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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